


Motivation

by cynthia_arrow (thesilverarrow)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 10:05:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5739544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesilverarrow/pseuds/cynthia_arrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius hates History, but he's willing to help Remus study if there's something in it for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Motivation

**Author's Note:**

> (Originally posted to livejournal, 2007.)

"I just don't understand you," Remus said, flopping back onto his bed, the textbook open and face down on his stomach. "You're not at all a stupid person or an incompetent wizard, yet you blatantly refuse to learn anything."  
  
"I learn."  
  
"Which your P in History of Magic tells me."  
  
"Oh, who gives a bloody fuck about history?" Sirius said as he lay down beside him, sighing as he squeezed up shoulder to shoulder with him. "What? Don't look at me like that. I'm perfectly willing to concede to the need for Charms and Transfiguration, maybe even Potions, but there is nothing whatsoever worth knowing about the History of Magic."  
  
"You don't care at all where we come from?"  
  
"I know where we come from, and that's precisely why I take no interest in this revisionist bullshit when there are other more important things to worry about."  
  
"Such as…?"  
  
"Why it matters to you if I'm smart."  
  
Remus finally turned his head and looked at him, not sure if he was poking fun at him or covering for insecurity or both at once. He said, "I know you're smart. Didn't I say so?"  
  
"I mean book smarts, which I do just fine at, by the way. Witness, my OWLs: three E's, two A's, and an O."  
  
"Never mind the—what was it?—two P's and a D. And one of your E's was in Divination for Christ's sakes."  
  
"You're just jealous of my intimate acquaintance with all things mystical."  
  
"It's bullshit."  
  
"Which I'm very, very good at. And you seem to forget that I'm also an advanced enough wizard to turn myself—"  
  
"Yes, yes. The dog. I just don't see why you can't translate such a thing into an O in Transfiguration."  
  
"Well, that's obvious. I spent so much time learning the Animagus stuff that I didn't get around to the things that were a hell of a lot easier but less important."  
  
Remus took in a deep breath as he felt that familiar surge of guilt.  
  
Just as familiar was Sirius's dismissal of the sacrifice he'd made—and continued to make—to keep him safe. He said, "Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist. We would all gladly do it again, even the boring book parts." Suddenly, Sirius sat up, tossing his long hair out of his face. "Motivation, mate. That's all I ever need to do anything."  
  
"Motivation?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"What sort of motivation?"  
  
Sirius gave him a wicked look, but it was also slightly sheepish, holding something back—a look like he gave him almost every day, when he was aware of it. When he wasn't, the look told Remus things that he had been aware of since fifth year but still couldn't quite believe.   
  
Sirius said, "That's for you to decide."  
  
It had always been for him to decide—between them two of them, at least—and he'd just about decided he was tired of tiptoeing about it. It was getting damn near impossible to do.  
  
"Oh?" Remus said.  
  
Sirius launched off the bed, scooping up the book, his fingers grazing Remus's stomach rather purposefully. "For instance," he said, scanning the open page, "I am perfectly capable of remembering the names of all these very important people who invented very important potions, like Renalda Redgrove and her…cure for freckles? Oh, come off it, mate. There is no reason in Merlin's green fairy dust why I should know that."  
  
"There is one reason."  
  
"What?" Sirius tossed the book at him, and he caught it and set it down gently on the bedside table.  
  
Remus sighed. "Because if you help me learn this ridiculous shit, I'll actually be able to go to Hogsmeade this time instead of holing up in the library."  
  
"The library has nothing to do with anything. You don't go because you hate Hogsmeade."  
  
"I dislike the way James gets when he's pissed. But I like the other company."  
  
Sirius made a good show of pausing to consider it, then he sat down on the bed again and took the book from his hands.   
  
"So I quiz you until you know everything in this damn chapter, and then you'll go to Hogsmeade next time?"  
  
"Yes. I might even have a drink or two."  
  
Sirius raised his eyebrows, then he flipped to the beginning.  
  
It helped that he wasn't looking at him. Remus felt a little flushed, halfway between giddy and nauseated as he said, "What do I get if I answer correctly?"  
  
Sirius's head shot up. "Hmm?"  
  
"I said," Remus started, fixing his gaze on Sirius's, hoping he was channeling a little of Sirius's lack of subtlety, "What do I get if I answer correctly?"  
  
Sirius's eyes went dark, and his mouth curved into a bewildered but rather joyful smile. "Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah," Remus said, finding a blush creeping over his cheeks.  
  
"Well," he said, suddenly shifting down to his end of the bed, close enough to lay his hand on Remus's chest. "That depends." His voice low, he said, "Who discovered the 41 uses for dandelion?"  
  
Sirius's hand seemed to burn straight into his heart. He was surprised he could form sentences. But he said, "Everhart Stone."  
  
Sirius smiled. "Very good," he murmured. He paused, as if he wasn't sure whether he should do what he clearly wanted, but when Remus's hand closed over his, he leaned down and pressed his lips to Remus's, quick and wet.  
  
Remus reached up and held him by the back of the head, so that he could pull out of the kiss but not entirely pull away. Their breath mingled, and Sirius looked quite a bit more shocked than he'd anticipated. It was frankly adorable.  
  
Then Remus pitched his own voice as low as it would go, too: "Everhart Stone also did groundbreaking studies in alternative uses for Mandrake as well as served as the Minister of Magic's advisor during the Great Pixie Infestation of 1921."  
  
Remus couldn't get over the uncertainty in Sirius's eyes, the kind that had nothing to do with confusion about what he wanted.   
  
Then he said, "You're making that up."  
  
"Try me."  
  
"What if we just say I don't actually care."  
  
Sirius kissed him again, this time a real kiss, lingering and slow and Remus happily let him probe his tongue inside, letting it tangle with his own. He kissed exactly like he always expected Sirius to kiss him—sloppy and eager but he was so fucking good at it—and he soon forgot entirely about the History of Magic and—  
  
"Remus," Sirius said against his lips. "Why in the world would the Minister want an herbologist to help him clear up a Pixie infestation?"  
  
Remus just grinned, and Sirius shook his head as he pulled his legs onto the bed so he could crawl on top of him and look down at him through a fringe of hair.   
  
"What do I get for being clever?" His eyes were on Remus's lips.  
  
"Self-satisfaction," Remus said with a smirk.  
  
He shook his head. "It's a damn good thing I'm crazy about you, you smug little bastard."  
  
Remus wanted to keep up the banter—it was one of his favorite things about being around Sirius, and James and Peter—but Sirius's lanky limbs were slowly but surely sinking into his, and it was so exhilaratingly new and predictably comfortable, both at the same time, that Remus had to kiss him again, so hard and long it threatened his breathing.   
  
But, really, who needed breathing with Sirius Black lying warm and pliable on top of him? It was the world's best excuse to let that dull tome of a textbook thud to the floor.


End file.
